Fuck
by crowleymurderous
Summary: The word "fuck" is deeply embedded into Nathan Prescott's vocabulary. Jefferson puts that into practice. (Jefferscott; contains smut, noncon, and the daddy and choking kink! Cover image is drawn by me! I fell in love with Nathan's concept design, so ye)


**A/N: I don't want to say I'm back, because I'm not, but I decided to log back in (for the first time in so long!) to upload this oneshot of Mark Jefferson x Nathan Prescott, from Life is Strange. It's my current fandom.**

 **Be warned, however, that this has smut and themes of rape/noncon, and includes the daddy and choking kink. I know Jefferscott gets a lotta shit because it's considered a "wrong" ship, but that's exactly why I like it. It's _so good._**

 **As for my Minecraft story, well... I'm definitely not going to continue that anymore. Sorry guys!**

 **I'm fairly proud of this fic! I spent a good while typing it up, even though it's only 2.6k+ words. I proofread this several times, but that was maybe a month ago, so sorry if it's not the best.**

 **Onto the story!**

* * *

"Mark."

The name slipped out of Nathan Prescott's mouth and into the cold autumn air. He was eyeing Jefferson from the doorway of the photography classroom, observing the way the teacher typed aimlessly at his laptop.

It had been almost a year since the two had started working together in the Dark Room. Nathan still remembers with distinct clarity going over the photographs of the first girl he'd assisted in kidnapping - Rachel Amber. First girl he'd ever fell in lust with.

But the whole Rachel Amber thing was a fiasco. To Jefferson, it was a lesson learned. To Nathan, it was the most traumatic thing he couldn't remember.

Mark had intentionally given her an overdose after she woke up during one of their "photoshoots." That wasn't supposed to happen. That was her fault. She shouldn't have woken up. Maybe then she wouldn't have had to be killed.

But some models are fighters by nature. And boy, was Rachel Amber _fucking pissed._

There was only one thing Mark could do then - get rid of her.

He couldn't afford any witnesses. He couldn't.

But Nathan saw him give her an overdose. He spoke up against it, asking why the syringe was filled more than usual, but received a backhand slap in return.

It hurt.

That was the first (and last) time Nathan had ever seen Jefferson act out of rage, out of character. Seeing his mentor's brows furrowed and teeth bared didn't scare him like it should have, rather it made him feel… pathetic. Pitiful. Like he fucked up.

 _"This is your fault, Nathan… you know that, right? You gave me the incorrect dosage. But no worries, I can clean up the mess."_

It wasn't Nathan's fault Rachel was dead.

Was it?

She… she shouldn't have woken up. Maybe she'd still be alive right now.

Maybe.

"Nathan?"

Jefferson's voice cut through Nathan's thoughts, snapping him back into reality. He was towering over the boy. "You called me?"

Nathan held his fists up in defense. "Mark! I-I... have to tell you something," he stammered.

How cute, thought Jefferson. Was Nathan actually trying to look tough? _In front of him?_

He laughed and gently took hold of the boy's fists. They were cold and shaky. Afraid. "You're not supposed to call me by my first name when we're at school. Remember?"

"I can call you whatever the fuck I want."

"Now now, Nathan, no need to be so curt," Mark chided. "Close the door, will you? People will see us."

* * *

The young Prescott walked in and closed the door behind him. He could never admit it, but it was embarrassingly easy to win his loyalty. He was willing to do anything and everything Jefferson asked him, as long as he felt important, felt needed.

Like an image, Nathan was easily manipulated.

He sat atop one of the many desks that littered the room, legs casually dangling off the side.

Mark stood parallel to him. "What was it you were going to tell me?"

"I…" Nathan swallowed. He didn't think he'd get this far into the conversation. The fog in his mind grew thicker the more he looked at Jefferson. His eyes trailed around the room, lost and vacant.

"Nathan? Stay with me." A hand caressed the boy's cheek. He shivered from the sensation. "You came here to tell me something?"

 _Fuck. Why was it so hard to focus when Mark Jefferson was around?_

Especially when he was touching his sensitive body...

Nathan couldn't bring himself to look Jefferson in the eye. "I was gonna say… that I want to be…"

"Mhmm?" the hand cupped Nathan's cheek.

"I want to be…" He struggled to find the right words.

Then it hit him why he was there in the first place. He swatted the hand away, eyes burning with aggression. "I want to be the dominant one!"

Silence. Then laughter. Whether it was sarcastic or not, no one knew.

Mark shook his head, still chuckling. His hand lay on Nathan's cheek once more. "Don't be silly, Nathan."

"U-Uh, what?" He didn't like how Jefferson said that. It sounded almost mocking.

"I think we've both established who the dominant one is here," said Mark, trailing his hand down the boy's neck, then chest, then waist. Slim. Slender. " _And we both know it's not you_."

He's doing it again. Jefferson is doing it again. Seducing him. Touching him. Touching him. Always the touching.

The room spun around Nathan in a whirlpool of stagnant air and sexual tension. He couldn't remember the last time he was able to get himself off.

His vision started blurring from the tears at the corners of his eyes. "Fuck you, just… give me this one chance…"

"Oh, Nathan." Mark gently pressed his lips on the boy's forehead. "I wasn't making fun of you."

"Eat shit."

Mark smiled knowingly, smugly. He was used to receiving backlash from the young Prescott. "I'm the dominant one because I know _exactly_ how to make you weak."

That was the one statement that struck a nerve. Part of Nathan's attention was on how fucking angry he was at his teacher and how much he wanted to wipe the wolfish grin off his face. The other part was just wondering how the hell no one had entered the room within the past several minutes.

Not that it mattered.

"T-That's not true," spat Nathan, his breathing hitched and his knuckles white.

"Oh? Your body says otherwise." Jefferson dug his thumbs into Nathan's belt, nails touching the tender skin. A soft gasp escaped the boy's lips.

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_. _He can't give in to him_. _Not yet_.

"Nathan." Mark's voice was quiet and husky. The way he said Nathan's name made it sound like he belonged to him. "Relax. You seem tense. Did you take your meds today?"

" _Meds?_ The fuck-"

Jefferson planted a small kiss on the Prescott's bare neck, relishing the moment when he moaned. "Shh, shh. I said relax."

Nathan knew where this was going.

He knew _exactly_ where this was going.

The whole purpose of him coming into the classroom was to confront Jefferson and assert his dominance, not to fall prey and submit to him like he always did.

He was tired of it.

"Mark," he snarled, grabbing Jefferson's wrists in a death grip. "I'm not gonna be the fucking bitch in this relationship."

There was a twinkle in the teacher's eyes. "Big words for a small boy."

And in one swift motion, Jefferson pinned Nathan down on the desk, arms above his head. He wasted no time unbuttoning the white shirt that clung tightly to the boy's chest.

The one time Nathan didn't wear his undershirt. Stupid move.

He squirmed and struggled, refusing, refusing, refusing to be the submissive one for the hundredth time. A moan escaped his lips as Jefferson nipped at his neck. "Be good for me, Nathan."

Nathan tried his hardest to push his teacher off, but lost all strength in his arms when he felt lips on his chest. Wet, warm kisses, made itchy from the prickly stubble hairs.

It was always the touching.

Calloused hands made their way up and down the boy's stark white body, gently massaging the bruises that peppered his skin. Red and purple splotches on a blank canvas. It brought pain but also a sickening sense of pleasure to be touched where all his wounds lay.

He wanted them to be reopened.

" _F-Fuck_ ," muttered Nathan. He could feel his jeans tightening.

"Your father beat you again? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Don't worry, it's okay. I'm here."

"Mark-"

"Hush, Nathan." Jefferson quickly unfastened Nathan's belt and haphazardly tossed it away. He yanked off his black pants and undergarments, and savored the fleeting moment Nathan, for the first time in a long time, looked vulnerable and defenseless.

Mark leaned in close, locking eyes with his student. He had one hand pinning Nathan down, and another hand on Nathan's stiff member. "You've been wanting this, haven't you?"

No response.

"If you won't answer me, I'll make you answer."

He gently brushed a thumb over the tip, wiping away a bead of precum that had formed. He let his fingers slide down the shaft, then back up, then back down. Slowly. Rhythmically. Then rapidly.

Nathan bucked his hips forward, shivering when the coldness of the air was replaced by Mark's warm hand, and vice versa. He shut his eyes to try and block out the sight of Mark, but there was no denying he was enjoying the handjob.

"Fuck, Mark… I'm _gonna_ -"

"Oh, no you don't. Not yet."

With one final stroke, Jefferson let go of the boy and backed away, silently admiring the quivering, half-naked mess he'd created.

He was always proud of his work.

Nathan was confused and somewhat hurt. He hadn't been able to get off in weeks, and there Jefferson was, the perfect opportunity.

But the bastard took away the chance almost as soon as he gave it.

"You know what comes after this, don't you, Nathan?"

"Wh… what," panted Nathan, legs still spread wide, "you're going to fuck me?"

That brought a smile to Jefferson's face. "You're a lot smarter than you look, you know?"

It didn't take long for Jefferson to unbuckle his belt and pull out his throbbing erection, his brown eyes locking with Nathan's blue ones. He inched closer and closer, glasses flashing with perversion and bad, bad intentions.

Disturbed that there was no condom or such in sight, Nathan quickly sat up and closed his legs. "Where the fuck is the lube?"

"That's not important. Lie down and-"

"Mark, where is the fucking lube?!"

Having had enough, Jefferson forced a hand over the boy's mouth, effectively silencing him. " _Be quiet and shut the fuck up, okay_?"

The young Prescott had no power over the older man. Nathan winced when Jefferson shoved him back down on the desk, a hand still over his mouth.

"I'm sorry… that was crude of me," muttered Jefferson. He carefully probed Nathan's entrance, teasingly almost. "But please, there's no need to yell."

He then pushed his stiff cock inside, slowly and tentatively, eyes scanning for a reaction from Nathan. Jefferson now had both hands on the boy's waist to have better control over him.

"Fuck… so good for me…"

Nathan bit his lip so hard, he drew blood and just let it dribble all over his mouth. He had his hands balled into fists, the nails digging into his palms. The pain from being forced open was too great.

 _Fuck Jefferson, fuck Rachel, fuck everything._

Mark thrusted in a little deeper, groaning as he did. He could feel the warmth clench around his erection, pleasuring him further. Deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong.

But that only served to turn him on more.

"M-Mark! It fucking _hurts_!" cried Nathan, hands gripping Jefferson's wrists. "Get off!"

Jefferson didn't like when people told him what to do. He bent over and bit harshly on Nathan's neck, adding to the many bruises that decorated his body. Hopefully it was enough to shut him up.

By now Mark was thrusting at an even pace. He absolutely loved to see the self-proclaimed King of Blackwell succumb to his teacher as soon as he had a dick inside his ass. There was just something about Nathan being helpless and yielding that he loved so much.

He was almost no different from his models.

"Mark! Get- get off!" Nathan's cheeks were flushed and shiny with sweat. The blood on his lip spread to his chin and it only made him look all the more pathetic. But he wanted to cum. He wanted _oh so badly_ to cum. That's why he unknowingly let Jefferson dominate him.

That's why he's the bitch in the relationship.

"Fuck! Mark-" Suddenly Nathan let out a wanton moan, a moan different from the others.

 _He found it. His sweet spot.  
_  
"Hm? Your expression's changed," said Mark in between pants. Then he realized. "Ah… here?"

Over and over he nailed the bundle of nerves that made Nathan quiver in pleasure. The boy didn't stop moaning either; the sound of his voice cracking and wheezing was music to Jefferson's ears.

"F-Fuck… please," begged Nathan, "right th-there…"

"Please what, Nathan?" Jefferson slowed his pace down.

Nathan knew he was being forced to beg like the bitch he is, but he long since gave up trying to be anything other than that. Even when he tried to put up a fight against Mark, deep down he knew there was no way to win against him. He needed this. He needed to cum.

And Nathan could never admit Mark was right about that.

He bit his bloody lip. "Please… Daddy."

Jefferson cracked a sly smile. "Will you be good?"

"Y-Yes." Nathan was itching to orgasm.

That was exactly what Jefferson wanted to hear. He adjusted his position and resumed thrusting into the whimpering boy beneath him.

At this point Nathan didn't care if anyone caught them. All he wanted was relief and only Jefferson could give it.

 _Fuck my pride, fuck my dignity, just fuck me._

"Please, Daddy!" Nathan had his arms stretched above his head, making himself appear more submissive than he really was. "Harder!"

Jefferson locked his fingers around Nathan's bruised throat- one more fetish to add to the list. He didn't care about consent anymore; he was already in this deep, so it didn't matter. "Who do you belong to?"

"Y-you," choked Nathan.

"'You' what?"

"You, Daddy! F-Fuck!" Nathan threw his head back as he came and released all his pent up sexual frustration.

"Nghh, Nathan…!" Jefferson pulled out just in time and ejaculated all over the boy's stomach. The whole idea of them climaxing together was so sick and so perverse, and yet so intimate and special. It was something no one else could share but them both.

If Jefferson could take a picture of this moment, he would. Nathan looked good half-naked and flustered, with pools of cum all over his body. There was something almost beautiful about it too, but nothing innocent, definitely.

And perhaps that's why Nathan is the best model of them all.

He sat up slowly, taking extra care not to cause himself (or his ass) more pain. He'd finally gotten what he'd been wanting for so long. Now he didn't know what to do.

"Nathan," said Jefferson as he dressed himself, "I'm sorry to have kept you here for so long. It's half past 10 – you're late for Miss Grant's class."

Nathan tensed up. They'd just finished sex and _that's_ what Jefferson was concerned about?

" _Fuck you_ , Mark," growled Nathan. "You don't give a shit about how I feel, do you? You're just like my dad."

"I am your daddy, after all."

"That's not what I fucking meant! You know that-"

Jefferson grabbed hold of the boy's shoulders, catching him by surprise. " _Nathan._ If I didn't care about how you felt, I wouldn't have wasted my time on you. And I am nothing like your father."

"You wouldn't know."

"I think I would, actually. Now get dressed. You're late for class."

With reluctance, Nathan wiped the cum off his body and wore his everyday outfit. He purposely bumped shoulders with Jefferson on his way out just to piss him off.

"Don't be rude, Mr. Prescott!" yelled Jefferson as Nathan walked out of the classroom.

"Shut up!"

Mark was barely fazed by all the sass. He'd dealt with it since the moment he met Nathan. And he knew for a fact that Nathan would come crawling back to him despite being treated like shit.

He always did.

* * *

 **A/N: Fun fact: when I wrote this fic, it was for a friend's birthday. It was extra tough for two reasons:**

 **1) I hadn't written a serious fic in so long (years practically)**  
 **2) I had never written a smut fic before**

 **BY THE WAY::: I'm now on an app called Art Amino! If you love to share art, that app's just the place for it. I like to think of myself as more of an artist than a writer honestly.  
My name is the same there (still _crowleymurderous_ ) and my art instagram is also _crowleymurderous_**

 **But it felt good to write this, like I had something to work on again. I am like... a way different person from when I last wrote a fic. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?**

 **As always, reviews of all sorts are always appreciated! I appreciate criticisms too (even though I don't write seriously anymore, I would still love to know what I could improve on, since I started doing literate rp)  
And if you don't like this ship and you just wanna spew flames in the reviews... that's fine too. It's always good to see the different opinions of people!**


End file.
